Romulan War: Let Slip the Dogs of War
by Newfrontiers01
Summary: It takes place on the eve of the Romulan War. It shows the events of how it started, folowing the crew of the NX05 Lexington.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Surod laid in bed, his chest rising and falling. The cool breeze blew through the window, sending shivers up his spine. His bed sheets were lying at the foot of the mattress. That night was a warm night, regardless of the breeze. Summer nights on Romulus tended to be a bit warm in the capital.

For some reason, Surod couldn't fall asleep that night. Usually, in mid-July, he could sleep perfectly, ever since he'd retired. He'd gotten used to the comfortable house in the capital. It felt natural for Surod to live there. It had taken some time, though. Surod had grown up on starships ever since he was old enough to join the military, just like his father and his father and his. He knew the schematics of a warbird like the back of his hand. But now, his memory began to fade. His attention span slipped twice as often as before. He was no longer an asset to the empire, as the Praetor had said. He was too old, and everyone back in the senate knew that. Even his closest friend, Senator Toran. But, the senate had supported Surod and given him comfortable living space, and a great view of the senate house. You were considered royalty to be living near the senate house.

Surod slowly lifted himself from his bed. He moved slowly towards the open window and leaned on the sill, admiring the view. The senate house looked beautiful at night, like an angel perched on the soil, ready to drift into the night sky. Into the stars.

Surod felt a pitted feeling in his stomach. He missed the stars. He missed the feeling of being able to reach out and touch each glowing ball of gas. He missed the beautiful landscapes of the different planets and anomalies he'd come across in his service. Maybe that was partly why retired. He wasn't only getting old. He was an explorer at heart, but the Romulan military had no place for explorers. Only soldiers or warriors or even killers. Now it was too late to buy a ship and explore. He was too old. He probably only had a few years left to live. He wanted to spend them on his homeworld.

Surod turned his attention to a dark image moving just outside the senate house. It kept to the shadows, slipping through the darkness like some animal. It moved with great speed, and at the same time, never left the darkness. No one would be out late at night walking, or in that case, running, at that hour. Surod had become quite familiar with the neighborly residents of the capital. He watched as it continued its way toward a single house. Then he watched in horror of what house it was. It was no house—it was the Praetor's mansion! Surod quickly dashed to his dresser and threw on his clothes. He moved swiftly to his bed and ripped away his pillow, revealing a metallic box. He opened it revealing a laser pistol. He picked it up, loading the small energy box included. He then chucked the box and moved to the window. He took a deep breath. _Think of it as skydiving_. He thought as he jumped out his twenty-five foot house.

Praetor Valdore watched in horror as a dark shadow slipped in his bedroom. It stood five feet from as he sat there helpless. Shivers went down his spine. Fear struck his face. He'd never been more frightened in his entire life. Not after serving on the battlefield so many times. He'd come close to dying many times, but now he knew he was about to die. It frightened him so much, he began to panic. He didn't know what to do. He could lie there and let it happen, or he could fight. Or he could offer his assassin an alternative. Ultimate power, riches, fame. He sat there frozen, and all he could think about was money. Ever since becoming a politician, he'd become corrupt. He thought only of his own personal gains. He was no longer thinking of his races future, but his own. Valdore yelled to his personal guards. The assassin stepped out from the darkness, pointing his weapon at the Praetor. It was a Human. Valdore sat up, now accepting his destiny. "Are you going to kill me?" he asked. The Human had a piercing stare. It could drill a hole through space itself. The Human didn't glance away for a second. "I'll see you in hell," he jumped out the window. Confusion struck Valdore's face. Why didn't the Human kill him? Then he heard a beeping noise. He looked down. The whole mansion blew up in flames, taking the dear Praetor Valdore with it.

Surod rushed into the senate house. All the senators were gathered, mingling with one another. They were buzzing about why they were called to meet so late at night. He could see they had no idea what was going on. They probably didn't hear the explosion.

Surod's eyes were glazed over. He didn't know what to say to the senate. He was never a good public speaker. Once, at his promotion, he was asked to give a speech and stuttered through the whole thing. He didn't even know how to react, whether to cry smile. Though it wouldn't be very polite to smile. Surod stepped forward. He would have to. He was the only living witness. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced. The crowd hushed right away, "I have some gri…grim news." _Pull yourself together Surod_, he said to himself. He mentally kicked himself for stuttering. "Praetor Valdore is dead." Gasps let out throughout the room. One of the senators, a man, stood up. "How has his death occurred?"

"Twenty minutes ago, his mansion blew up. We found the remains of a bomb of alien origin. We've been able to capture the culprit." Surod took a deep breath. Shouts of "bring him in" went around the room in waves. Surod had never seen the senators in such unison before. It was impressive. Soldiers didn't even act like that. Surod quickly called for the Human to be brought in. the two guards dragged the rugged Human in chains. They didn't leave his sides. Surod put his hand on his pistol, just in case. He could never be too careful around aliens. Another senator stood, this time a woman. She looked a little young to be on the senate. "We should kill him. Make his people pay!" she shouted. Raging screams came from the crowd. Surod looked to the guards. The lifted their rifles, which quieted the senate. Another senator stood up. He was Toran, Surod's best friend. Toran had always been wise. Always know the right thing to do and the right thing to say. Maybe he could bring order to the chaotic courtroom. "That won't get us anywhere. We need a new Praetor. He'll know what to do. We need order, and we can't have that without a leader. I for one nominate Ex-General Surod for Praetorship." Surod looked over at Toran. He gave him "this is a bad idea" look. Toran ignored him. Senator Ralora stood. "All in favor, say I," a crowd of I's echoed throughout the senate house. Surod held his hands up. He didn't want Praetorship. He didn't want to be involved with the government anymore. But he had no choice. "I accept," Surod announced glumly. He started to leave the room. "Wait! What shall we do with the alien?" someone shouted. Surod sighed. "I'm sure I'll think of something,"


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

Commander Mathew Sinclair stepped through the sliding door. He entered an office with several starship models hanging from the ceiling. They included a Daedalus class, Mercury class and NX class. He always enjoyed models of such ships. All throughout his childhood he put together models of all sorts of ships, like the _Iowa_ and the _Missouri_. He'd even put together a detailed model of the _Phoenix_, Zefram Cochrane's ship. He just loved ships. It was always his dream to serve on ships. Though it was his plan to join the Navy. But he decided to take up a career in Starfleet. He decided there was nothing for him back on Earth, but there were billions of other worlds to explore.

Sinclair sat at the desk. There was a window behind where you could see all the ships being constructed. There were only a few right then being constructed. Two NX class and three Mercury class. They looked magnificent. Only one was fully constructed. It was beautiful. It was an NX class. Its streamlined nacelles were glistening in the glow of the warp five complex. He couldn't take his attention from the ship. It was like it was pulling him in. like he was destined for the ship. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. Starfleet hadn't told him what the meeting was about. They just said come. Perhaps it was about reassignment, or even promotion. He was probably just being reassigned from the _Colombia_. At this rate, he'd never have a command of his own. He'd been serving under Captain Hernandez as XO for two years. He really wanted a promotion, but Starfleet deemed it important to hold back potential Captains, only because ships were hard to build. Hopefully soon he'd get promoted.

Admiral Kristin Moore walked in. She carried a padd, and a small box. She sat at the desk. "Is there possibly in all stupidity the universe has to offer, a reason my being here?" Sinclair asked. She gave him a look. "Well of course. I was just getting the information together." She handed him a padd. He picked it up and read through it. It was an officer profile. The man in it had blonde hair and blue eyes. He appeared to be about ten years younger than Sinclair. "This man was assigned reconnaissance on a world known as Romulus. We lost contact with him a few days ago." Sinclair kept his attention to the padd. His profile said he'd been arrested and charged with mutiny on more than one occasion, yet he was still in Starfleet. He'd served time in the New Zealand penal colony for two years. _Why would anyone want him on their ship?_ Sinclair asked himself. Clearly this man was a rebel. He should have been court-martialed by then. "Anything I should know about the pervert?" Sinclair asked. He sat back in his chair and sighed. Moore didn't change her position. "Sarcasm gets nowhere Sinclair…"

"Excuse me, but it says pervert on his profile," Sinclair announced. Moore grabbed the padd and looked at it. "Oh, sorry. We don't have time for that right now, though. I've been given authority to promote you and give you command of the NX-03 _Montana_…"

"Hold on a second," Sinclair interrupted, "I thought Admiral MacKay told me I would never get command of an NX…" Moore held her hands up. Sinclair stopped.

"Admiral MacKay was court-martialed last week. I don't know why. And besides, Captain Hernandez recommended you for command." Sinclair nodded. "You can continue blither blathering about my new command." Moore shook her head. "You can be so strange sometimes." Sinclair nodded.

"I know. I intend to be." He started whistling.

"Commander. You're to take your ship into Romulan territory and rescue the captive. Your ship has been equipped with a Suliban cloak." She handed him the small box and shook his hand. "Trust me, Admiral, I won't let the crackerjacks back at headquarters down. You can count on me." As he headed for the door, she responded, "Oh, I very much doubt it." as Sinclair slipped into the corridor, he knew it would be a difficult task. No one had ever gone into the heart of Romulan territory. It was plain and simple common sense.


End file.
